Hate Me

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 29TH

Planning a mutiny.

7am

Social Committee meeting.

I am secretly planning a mutiny due to starting at this ungodly hour.

Although, I shouldn’t say ungodly.

Not when there is a beautiful god sitting next to me.

One who keeps playing footsie with me.

And whose smile is definitely worth getting up for.

Whitney and Brad go over what’s already been planned.

Whitney says, “Okay, so, Friday during school, we will transform this place into Paris. The dorms will once again be competing for a dress-down day based on how they decorate their houses. Friday night dinner in the café will be steak and steak frites. Everyone will be encouraged to attend the basketball home opener. The coffee shops will be open late, serving pastries and drinks.”

Brad continues. “Since we’re hosting a wrestling match on Saturday, we didn’t plan any games, but the café will be open all day, serving French grilled ham and cheese sandwiches—or croques monsieur—French pastries, and chocolate soufflés, and will be holding hourly French cooking classes.”

“Then, Saturday night,” Whitney says, “will be the Seine River Dinner Cruise. I think everyone will be so excited when they find out it’s really a murder mystery party. So, Keatyn and Logan, the plan is to let everyone eat their gourmet picnics, and then the cast will get out of their seats and start the play?”

I nod and Logan says, “Yeah, it will be really fun. It’s written so that we’re all on this dinner cruise, eating the gourmet picnics made by me, Wolfgang Pluck. Then you find out someone has been murdered and who all the potential suspects are.”

“Perfect,” Whitney says, “and the tables will have to work together to figure out whodunit?”

“Yes,” I reply. “Each table will turn in their guess of which suspect did it and the winning tables will get some fun prizes.”

“And then Sunday afternoon, students can learn how to play the French lawn bowling game—or boules, as it is known—and go to the matinée movie, which will be showing a French film,” Brad says.

“That all sounds really great,” Brooke says excitedly.

“All right,” Brad says, “I think we have this all figured out. Everyone, make sure you work with your liaison clubs so that things go smoothly. We’ll meet again Friday morning at . . .” He looks at me. “Let’s meet at 7:30. We shouldn’t have too much to go over.”

I give him a big smile. “You’re lucky. I had just decided to mutiny if we had another meeting so early.”

Brad laughs, “Let’s go get some coffee.”

Aiden wraps his arm tightly around my waist, gives me a kiss, and says, “Enjoy your coffee. I have to run down to shop class.”

“What for?”

“To oversee the creation of Hawthorne house’s decoration.”

“Fun. What are you doing?”

“Don’t tell her,” Brad says to Aiden. “They’re the competition.”

“Us girls are decorating all our windows to honor Parisian shopping. Is Hawthorne doing that too?” I ask with a laugh.

“Ha. Ours is gonna blow yours away. It’s amazing what we’ll do to avoid wearing our uniforms for one day.”

Emergency fund.

Ceramics

I’m in ceramics, glazing, when I hear a Psst from the hall.

I turn around and see Maggie. Our teacher is in the back room, so I sneak out to talk to her.

“I just talked to the dean,” she says.

“How’d it go?”

“He didn’t have good news. All the scholarships for the year have been given out.”

“There isn’t any kind of emergency fund?”

“He said he would see what he could do, but not to get my hopes up.”

I give her a big hug. “It will all work out. He’ll find something.”

“I sure hope so.”

As I’m painting the overglaze on my bowl, I’m thinking. Trying to figure out how I can help Maggie. Aiden and I watched as her and Logan’s lives followed one of my scripts. They’re back together where they belong, and I know in my heart they are destined to be that way forever. I’m not going to allow fate to rip them apart.

So, I’m going to intervene.

The question is how?

It’d be easy to just offer to pay for it. Write her a check for next semester. Done.

But what if I’m not here next semester. Or next year?

And I don’t ever want her to feel like she owes me.

I finish glazing, look up the annual tuition on the school’s website, and then ask my teacher if I can go speak to the dean about some French weekend stuff.

She writes me out a pass, so I leave ceramics, run to my dorm to get my checkbook, and then head to the office.

I give the dean’s assistant the same excuse.

She leads me in, tells him why I need his ear for a few minutes, and then walks out leaving the door open.

I follow her, shutting the door, and then sit down.

“We on a top secret mission, Miss Monroe?” the dean asks.

“Actually, kinda. I know Maggie came in and spoke to you earlier and that you didn’t have good news for her.”

“I’m afraid not. I have some alumni that I could call, but usually the first thing they ask is about the student’s grades. Hers are not stellar.”

“But she does tons of activities and she still gets mostly Bs.”

“I’ll do what I can,” he says.

“That’s not good enough.” I lay my checkbook on his desk. “Okay, then, I’d like to start a scholarship fund. One for emergency situations such as this. And I’d like the first recipient to be Maggie. This scholarship comes with a few strings.”

“What kind of strings?”

“It’s anonymous.”

“Many are. That’s not a problem. Will this be a one-time scholarship?”

“You mean will it be just for Maggie or will it go on for other students too?”

“Yes, most scholarship funds go on for years, but we can set this up so that it just helps Maggie.”

I think about Eastbrooke and how at home and safe I’ve felt during my short time here. The amazing people I’ve met. I don’t want anyone to have to leave if they don’t want to. I don’t want them to have to say good-bye to their friends.

“I think I’d like it to go on after Maggie. How would I do that?”

He rolls his chair over to a file cabinet and pulls out a folder. “This is what we give to someone interested in setting up a fund. Typically, they donate a large enough amount so that it supports itself.”

“What do you mean?”

“The school invests the donation and the scholarship money is taken out of the dividends earned.”

I smile. “I like that idea.” Something that will go on long after I’m gone. I flip through the file looking for specific numbers. “I don’t see any suggested amounts. What would it take to fund something like this? I want it to be more than just the tuition. I want to include, like, a stipend too.”

“Are you really serious about this?”

“Yes, very.”

“Okay, well, if you wanted to do it every year for one student, then decide how much of a stipend you want them to receive. If you figure your initial investment to earn a conservative ten percent, that’s how you figure it.”

I do some quick math in my head. “I want you to be able to use your discretion. I want each student to get this.” I write down a number. “Plus have room, board, meals, and activities covered. Which is this.” I write down another number. “So that means if I wanted it available for, say, three to five students a year, then I’d need this?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And you promise no one will know who gets the funds? I don’t want their friends to know they needed help.”

“We’ll notify you anytime we have a need. If you want, you can be the one to decide if the need is great enough.”

“Would you have given it to Maggie if this scholarship was already in place?”

He nods. “Maggie is a lovely person and an asset to our school, regardless of her grades. She’s active socially. Always upbeat. I suspect she will be in the running for dance team captain next year. She’d even be a candidate for prefect if she brought her grades up.”

I start to get little tears in my eyes. I’m so happy I’m able to do this. And I know Maggie will be so relieved. I open my checkbook. “Who do I make it out to?”

“Are you sure you are in a position to do this? It’s very unusual for a current student to start a scholarship fund.”

“I’m not like most students,” I say with a sad smile. “When will you tell her?”

“I’ll have to do some paperwork to get everything set up, and let the check clear before we can do anything officially. But I’ll call the bank to verify that the funds are in place and tell Maggie we’ve found a solution this afternoon, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” I say, getting up to leave.

“Keatyn,” he says, “sit back down. Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“You don’t seem fine. You looked sad just now.”

“I have some family issues. They’re starting to sort themselves out, but when I left for Thanksgiving break, I wasn’t sure I’d be back. I have little sisters and I need to make sure they are . . .” I almost say safe, but stop myself. “Happy. Well taken care of.”

“I understand. Family should always come first. How are your boxing lessons going?”

“Haven’t had any since we got back. I need to coordinate that too.”

“Mr. Steele was in here earlier today.”

“Oh, really?”

“He wanted to know if I was okay with him incorporating your lessons into soccer practice for the team.”

“How is he going to do that?”

“I believe self defense is going to be part of your workouts several times a week. Really, I’m all for you girls learning how to defend yourselves.”

“Wow! That would be awesome! And mean I get more sleep.”

“I was going to say give you more time for homework.”

“That too,” I say as the bell rings. “Thanks. I better get to lunch.”

I’m perfect.

Lunch

I sneak up on Aiden in the lunch line and kiss his shoulder.

“Where were you? I went to meet you at ceramics so we could walk to lunch together, but Jake said you left class early.

“I just wanted out of class. And I had a couple things I wanted to okay with the dean about the baskets for Saturday night.”

“Did he okay them?”

“Yep. All ready to go.”

“Hey, before we sit down, is Maggie okay?”

“I think so. Why?”

“Logan just said she’s been acting funny. Really happy one minute, totally depressed the next. And that’s not really like her.”

“I think it’s okay that I tell you. The reason she went to Logan’s on Thanksgiving was because she got into an argument with her stepdad and her mom totally took his side.”

“So she’s still upset about that?”

“I don’t know for sure. But I know I would be.”

“And how about you?”

“You’re standing here with me, Aiden. Right now, I’m perfect.”

I get the blazing smile. “That makes me happy. Promise me you’ll tell me if anything goes on with Chelsea, okay?”

“I promise.”

We sit down at our table and, just as I’m taking a bite of salad, Annie plops down across from me so hard she shakes the whole table.

“He broke up with me! I was going to break up with him, but the asshole beat me to it!”

“What’d he say?”

“He said I was getting too serious. He’s the one who asked me out! How was I getting too serious?”

Jake says, “He’s stupid. Why he’d want a skank like Chelsea, I have no idea.”

“Because she’s really pretty,” Annie says. “And she’s easy.”

“Easy is not a good thing,” Jake tells her.

“Actually, Annie,” I say, “you should get glammed up with Whitney, Peyton, and me. We’re going to do each other’s makeup before the party.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Good, because Ace will be at the party. And you know what they say.”

“What do they say?”

“Looking good is the best revenge.”

Annie nods. “I like that. I want him to see me looking all glamorous and want me back.”

“Fight fire with fire.” I laugh.

“By looking hot?” Maggie asks. “I want in on that too.”

“Me too,” Katie chimes in. “Bryce, you’ll be drooling.”

“Of course, it sort of depends on what outcome you want,” I tell Annie.

“What outcome?”

“Yeah, do you really want him back or do you just want him to want you back?”

Annie thinks about it for a minute, then says, “No way I’d take him back. Even if it means I end up dateless for Winter Formal.”

“I bet you’ll have a date before he does,” Maggie says.

Your gaydar is broken.

French

Miss Praline starts right in on a lecture, so I write a note to Aiden and drop it over my shoulder.

I bought you some birthday presents last night. I’m excited for you to open them.

All I want for my birthday is you.

Like all of me? Does that mean you’re ready to?

I’ve been ready, Boots. I want you to be ready.

I know. I appreciate that.

French weekend will be busy. I’m really excited for it. I’m going to try to speak French to you the whole time.

Really?

Ha. Well, I wish, but probably not. I’ve been studying a few key phrases though.

Like what?

It’s a secret.

Are they from the dirty French book?

Nope.

Darn . . .

Next weekend, I told you my parents are coming in for your dance competition and for my birthday. Then, I was thinking . . .

About what?

You’re done with the competition on Friday at noon. My parents are going to visit some friends and Peyton is leaving to spend the weekend with Damian. What if we spent the weekend at your loft? We could relax, go Christmas shopping, see the Rockefeller tree all lit up.

Miss Praline finishes her lecture and gives us time to work on our homework, so I turn around. “I’d love that.”

Aiden grazes my hand with his finger, giving me instant goose bumps. “Je veux vos lèvres sur les miennes,” he says, his voice rough with desire.

Annie rolls her eyes. “Don’t be all sexy and say I want your lips on mine in French. It’s depressing.”

“Annie, it’s Ace’s loss,” Aiden says to her. “How do you know there’s not someone better waiting for you? He was your first serious boyfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” she says, probably wondering where he’s going with this.

“See? He was your warm up pitches.”

“What do you mean?”

“In baseball, the pitcher gets to throw a few pitches before he faces a batter. Maybe Ace was your warm up and you’re ready to start the game for real.”

Annie ponders that.

“Is there anyone you think is cute?” I ask, hoping she has a list.

“Well, sure. There are lots of cute guys.”

“Any who are single?”

“Well, I mean, Jake is super hot, and he was really sweet at lunch, but I know he was just being nice. He’d never go for me.”

“I think you’re wrong. But what about Brad? He’s not seeing anyone either, and he’ll be there tonight.”

“Oh, he’s really cute too. And he’s got those broad shoulders.”

“I’m not completely sure,” Aiden says in a hushed voice, “but I think Brad might bat for the other team.”

“So could I pitch to him too?” Annie says, clearly still thinking about baseball.

Aiden breaks out in laughter, so I clarify. “I think Aiden is saying Brad might be gay.”

“Really?”

“I’ve never gotten a gay vibe from him at all,” I say to Aiden, agreeing with Annie.

Aiden whispers in my ear. “Says the girl who dated someone gay for over a year. I think your gaydar is broken.”

I stick my tongue out at him, because he’s probably right.

He glances at the teacher then grabs my tongue with his lips, pulling me into a very steamy kiss.

Strong, fierce, confident.

Soccer

During soccer practice, Cooper announces that the new Steele Building Workout will now include two days a week of boxing and self defense training.

“Monroe, come up here.”

When I’m standing in the middle of the mat, Cooper says, “I’ve been doing some private lessons with Monroe here. Learning to defend herself is just one of the perks. She has also greatly improved her core strength, her flexibility, and her overall strength. On the soccer field, you are constantly running into other players. Your ability to hold your ground, to resist getting knocked down, and to have good balance while running are all improved by workouts like these. Show them your stomach,” he tells me.

I lift up my shirt.

“Monroe is very active. She surfed, played soccer, did some kickboxing workouts, and danced before she came to Eastbrooke. Here she works out on her own time, as well as with the soccer and dance teams. What’s happened to your body since beginning our workouts?”

“Well,” I say, “my stomach was always flat, but now I have abs. My core is stronger and my dance kicks are higher because of the increased flexibility.”

“What else?”

“Honestly, it makes me feel fierce and it’s a great workout when you’re pissed off. Gets all your aggression out.”

“And that’s exactly how I want you all to be on the soccer pitch this spring. Strong, fierce, confident competitors.”

“Would you mind demonstrating a little of what you can do?” he asks me.

“Sure, as long as you don’t mind if I kick your ass in front of the team.”

Cooper turns to the team and says with a laugh. “See? Fierce.”

I pull my t-shirt off so I can’t get caught up in it, and stand in just my sports bra.

Fortunately for the girls, Cooper does the same.

If he takes off his shirt every time we practice, all the girls in the school will try out for soccer.

I put on gloves and a protective mask and throw the first punch at Cooper.

We begin the choreographed moves that are usually our warm-up.

We connect with a few punches, block a few, and then he grabs me around the waist and throws me to the ground.

I will admit, this part is kinda hot.

Especially when his legs are between mine as he almost pins me.

His face is close to mine, his hard body crushing me, but I manage to get out of his hold and quickly turn the tables, pulling his shoulder in an uncomfortable position.

He taps out and says, “All right. Who wants to try it next?”

I laugh as every hand on the team is raised high in the air.

After soccer, I head to dance. Maggie bounds into the locker room, grinning. “Did you hear me get called to the office?”

“Yeah, what did they want? Is everything okay?”

She breaks down and starts crying.

“What’s wrong?”

She grabs my hands and jumps up and down, causing me to realize she’s crying happy tears.

“It’s better than okay! I get to stay!”

“Did your mom change her mind?”

“No, you were right. The dean found me a scholarship. Some sort of special emergency fund for students already enrolled here. And get this. It even comes with a monthly stipend, so with that and my savings I should be just fine!”

“That’s awesome! I’m so happy! I was going to talk to you tonight and offer to help.”

“That’s really sweet, but I just couldn’t ask my friends for handouts. That would be awkward.”

“Yeah, maybe. But, seriously, you ever need anything else, come to me, okay?”

She hugs me. “I will.”

“Maggie, you mentioned a savings account. Are you the only one on the account?”

Her eyes get big. “No, my mom’s name is on it too.”

“Have you checked it?”

“Shit, no.” She grabs her phone, pulls up her balance, and says, “It’s still there, but guess I should move it, shouldn’t I? It’d be just like them to decide to wipe that out too.”

“If you think that will happen, I would.”

“How do I do that?”

“Well, you can transfer it to another person until you get an account set up.”

“Can I send it to you? I trust you.”

“Of course.”

She clicks around on her phone. “Okay, I think you have to do something on your end before I can transfer it.”

I check my email on my phone, do what’s required, and then she transfers the money to my account.

“I’m so glad you thought of that. It’s not that much, but still.”

“I know. So, how do you think the dance competition will go? I’m nervous. Peyton seems nervous.”

“I think we’re going to rock it. And speaking of rocking it.”

“What?”

“Since I get to stay at school, I don’t want to wait any longer with Logan. We were waiting to see if things would work out, but they couldn’t be more perfect. I’m nervous, kinda. It’s weird. We’ve done it before, but it’s been a while. I don’t know why, but I sorta feel like it’s my first time all over again.”

“I feel that way with Aiden. He makes me nervous.”

“It’s love, don’t you think? That’s what makes it different?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Sex in the alley.

7:30pm

Everyone comes to my and Katie’s room to get ready for tonight.

Whitney assesses our room. “I like how you two have decorated. It’s funky.”

“Thanks!” Katie says, beaming.

Whitney immediately takes charge. “Peyton, you’re best with hair. Why don’t you do Katie’s hair while Keatyn and I do Annie’s makeup. Then we’ll rotate.”

Annie sits in my desk chair and I wheel her into the bathroom so we’ll have better light.

“What do you use on your face?” Whitney asks her.

“Moisturizer and mascara.”

Whitney shakes her head. “You’re lucky you have such a great complexion. Most girls couldn’t get away with that.”

She paws through my makeup bag and starts with a primer. “It’s good to start with primer,” I tell Annie. “It fills in any imperfections and allows your foundation to stay on, so you can use less and still look natural.”

“This foundation is too dark for her. Katie’s fair. Can we use hers?”

“Yeah, second drawer on the left.”

Whitney opens the drawer and tries Katie’s. “Oh much better.” She uses a damp sponge and blends the makeup perfectly.

Annie tries to sneak a peek in the mirror, but Whitney turns her back around. “No, no. We want you to see if all at once.”

I do Annie’s eyes in neutral tones, shading and highlighting in all the right places. I add a swoop of black liner and three coats of mascara to her long lashes.

Whitney studies her face, adds a pale pink blush, a little bronzer to the hollows of her cheek, and highlighter to the top of her cheekbones. Then she dabs on a pretty peach lip gloss. “What do you think?” she says to me.

“I think you look gorgeous, Annie. Natural and pretty, and your eyes look huge!”

“Can I see now?”

Whitney shakes her head. “No, wait until Peyton does your hair. Get the full effect.”

I touch up my makeup while Whitney does Katie’s eyes.

About an hour later, our hair is full and sexy and our makeup is done to perfection.

“What are we supposed to wear?” Annie asks, holding up a pair of pajamas.

“If your goal is to make Ace drool, I’d suggest yoga pants,” Whitney says.

“Yeah, boys love yoga pants.” Katie laughs. “They make your butt look amazing.”

I go in my closet and grab a pair for Annie to try on.

“You have a great figure, Annie. Here, wear this long sleeved V-neck with the pants,” Peyton says, tossing a shirt at her.

We all get dressed and let Annie look in the mirror. “Oh my gosh!” she says, studying herself. “I look so pretty! No offense, but I was afraid you’d put a whole bunch of makeup on me and I’d look ridiculous. I look like myself, only better. My eyes look so much bigger. You have to show me how you did that.”

“So, you feel good?” Whitney asks her. “Because more than likely Ace will bring Chelsea. You have to be able to handle it. Although, I don’t think you’ll have much time to worry about it. I think plenty of other guys will be vying for your attention.”

Annie stands up straight and tall and says, “Bring it on.”

Which makes Katie, Maggie, and me giggle.

Peyton points at Whitney. “We’re going to head over there now so we can greet everyone. Annie, you should wait a bit and then make a big entrance.”

“With a boy,” I say. “A hot boy.”

“I don’t really know any hot boys.”

“I do,” Whitney and I both say at the same time. We look at each other and say, “Jake?”

“Yeah. Let me call him.” I dial Jake’s number. “Hey, favor for you. Would mind escorting Annie into the party tonight?”

“You trying to piss Ace off?”

“Basically, yes. And Chelsea, too, if she’s there.”

“My pleasure. What time?”

“Can you come to my room and just hang out? We want her to show up fashionably late.”

“Make a big entrance? ”

“Exactly.”

“I’m on my way, Monroe. And I have vodka.”

I call Aiden and tell him I’m ready to run to town for snacks. I’m just heading out when Jake comes in. He stops dead in his tracks and stares at Annie.

He blinks a few times before he says, “You look fantastic. I mean, you always look pretty, but wow.”

Annie does a cute little pirouette for him. I love how tight fitting yoga pants and a little eye shadow have given her more confidence.

I look at Jake and pout. He rolls his eyes at me. “You look nice too, Monroe. But Annie, here. She should wear those pants every day. They’re like BAM. And her hair looks crazy good.”

Annie gives Jake a huge smile. “Thank you. I hope I have that effect on Ace.”

“Ace will definitely be wondering what the hell he was thinking.”

“Okay, so, you two hang out for a bit. I’m going to get snacks and will be back soon.”

I run out of my dorm and find Aiden standing next to his car with the passenger door already open for me.

“Well, look at you,” he says, looking more at my body than my face.

“You’re supposed to look at my face when you say that,” I tease, planting my lips on his.

He grabs my ass firmly. “Forget the fashion show. You should just walk around and let me watch.”

I smile and laugh at him, loving how sexy he can make me feel with one touch.

Well, two touches, if you count both his hands.

“I’m wearing workout clothes, Aiden. I’m not even dressed up.”

He nuzzles my hair and nibbles on my neck.

“Stop that. It tickles,” I screech.

“You really want me to stop?” he asks, his lips grazing my neck.

“No, but everyone is expecting snacks.”

He kisses me, then says, “Oh, yeah. I sorta forgot about that.”

We get in his car and head off campus. A few seconds later, Aiden has my hand on the stick shift and is roaring through the gears.

“You like to go fast.”

“I’d like to go faster, just to see how fast she can go—without getting a ticket, of course. My dad and I always talk about taking her out on a track. We just haven’t yet.”

My eyes light up, realizing that would probably be the best birthday gift I could give him.

We stock up on junk food and head back to school.

He parks and pulls me onto his lap. “I’m in withdrawal. I haven’t gotten to kiss you nearly enough today.”

I know we need to get the snacks to the party, but it’s hard to think about such frivolity when a godly, powerful tongue is controlling you.

I love his lips. His tongue.

How he bites down on my lower lip sometimes and pulls at it with his teeth.

But he’s not doing that right now.

These kisses are long, hot, deep, full-on tongue kisses.

The kind of kisses that make me want to throw him up against a wall and strip him naked.

Make him model for me.

Do lots of naughty and sexy things.

These kisses make me want to be a very bad girl.

Do the kind of things I’ve only read about in books.

I mean, it’s dark. We’re not parked near a light.

Why not?

Aiden’s ringing phone interrupts my thoughts. He pulls it out of his jacket pocket, looking as annoyed by the sound as I feel.

“Hey, sis,” he says. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Traffic. We’re headed that way now.”

He puts the phone back in his pocket and touches my lips. “Your lips are definitely my bliss.”

“Oh really?”

“Absolutely. Come on. Annie is about to make her big entrance. We don’t want to miss the fireworks.”

Right before I open the door to the cinema room, Aiden gives me a sexy smirk. “Although, I bet there were more fireworks in my car.”

As I hand Peyton the bags full of junk food, I notice Ace and Chelsea standing in front of the big screen. The TV is turned on but the fashion show doesn’t start for a few more minutes.

All of a sudden, Ace’s eyes get huge. I don’t need to look to know that Annie and Jake just walked in. But when I do turn to look at them, I’m surprised too.

They’re holding hands and laughing.

I start to worry about the vodka.

Oh, please tell me he didn’t get her drunk.

But as I study them more, I realize that both their eyes look focused and clear. And when Annie pulls me into a hug, her breath smells more like Jake’s cinnamon gum than alcohol.

Ohmigawd!

I grab her hand and pull her away from the food table. “Have you and Jake been kissing?”

She blushes and looks up at the ceiling.

“Annie! Why?”

“Why not?”

“Um, I don’t know. Because you’re supposed to be in a mourning period or something, maybe?”

“If I recall, when you were mourning your relationship with Dawson, you got drunk and kissed, like, five guys in the same night.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, we didn’t drink. We were just talking and he kissed me. Just once. Sort of tentatively. Like, he kissed me, then moved his head back and gave me this grin. So I figured, what the heck? I leaned over and kissed him. Once. Pulled back. Smiled. Then he kissed me again and didn’t stop until Peyton called. I was a little irritated when the phone rang. I was like, Ace who?”

“Ace’s eyes about bugged out of his head when he saw you.”

“You know what? I don’t even care.”

“Good for you. Jake is awesome. I mean, as long as you know he’s not looking for anything serious.”

She nods. “I think I’d prefer it that way.”

“Are you two talking about me?” Jake asks, sneaking up behind us.

I start to say no, but Annie surprises me when she smiles and coos, “Busted. Should we find some seats? It’s about to start.”

“Front row or back?” Jake asks suggestively.

“Definitely back,” she replies, giving him a coy smile.

“When did you become such a flirt?” I whisper to her, as Jake grabs her hand and drags her away.

Once he gets her situated, Jake comes back over to get some drinks and popcorn.

“Jake,” I whisper. “I know we wanted to piss Ace off, but . . .”

He puts his hand on top of my head and messes up my hair. “Don’t worry, Monroe. My kissing her has nothing to do with Ace. She looks smoking hot. I always thought she was cute. She just, she seems more confident now. It’s sexy.”

Aiden, who was talking to Maggie and Logan, grabs a bag of popcorn with one hand and my hand in the other. “Maggie and Logan saved us seats.”

We sit down and watch the show.

The guys are doing a lot of hooting—Dallas, in particular, who is sitting between a couple of the newly-single cheerleaders. Ace is sitting next to Chelsea, but he’s not touching her, and he keeps looking back at Annie and Jake, who are cuddling.

Aiden is eating popcorn, enjoying the show, but he’s not cheering. Instead, one of his fingers is running along the top edge of my yoga pants. Warmth and desire flow from his fingertip to my soul.

I look at him and smile.

“Your eyes look purple tonight,” he whispers. I lean my head on his shoulder, my thoughts taking me to happy far-away places.

“This is it!” Annie says excitedly. “The extended trailer for Abby Johnston’s new movie. I heard it’s really hot.”

I sit up straight, my eyes glued to the screen.

The trailer starts out with Mom sitting at a desk writing To Maddie, With Love in a journal. The music moves as painfully slow as she writes. Mom looks beautiful as a brunette, but a little ragged. The slow music is replaced by a techno beat and images flash quickly across the screen. Maddie cutting her wrists. A hospital. Drugs on a kitchen table. Bottles of alcohol. Then back to her writing again. Same desk. Same stress on her face. Then techno. Faster images. Happy Maddie. Dancing. Kissing a man in a dark alley. A flash of Maddie’s body. Lips. Hips. Sex in the alley. A bed. Nakedness. Sheets. Smiles. The music changes as we watch Maddie writing again. Then more flashes. Drugs. A club. Dancing on a bar. More men. More sex. The flash of money. Then back to Maddie.

The images are powerful, emotional.

Even though I don’t want to see her naked, I want to see this movie. I want to know how Maddie went from a seemingly happy party girl to trying to commit suicide.

“That looks really good,” Aiden leans over and whispers to me. “We should go see it.”

In front of me, Dallas say, “All I know is Abby Johnston looks fucking hot. We definitely need to go see that one.”

“I’m not sure if I’d like it,” I say to Aiden.

Dallas’ response to the trailer upsets me, and I can see why it upset Vincent. Maddie looks like she lived a very wild life. And I know she did. Mom let me read the script last year when she was considering the role. Reading about it was interesting. Seeing it played out before my eyes is another thing altogether. And I know that the movie, though poignant, is also supposed to be disturbing.

A little bit sick and twisted.

And, right now, I’m feeling a little sick to my stomach. Not because I’m not proud of my mom, but because I know it’s images like these that set Vincent off.

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t hear the commotion until Aiden startles me by quickly standing up.

I turn around to see Ace standing in front of Annie and Jake, his hands in fists and his body tense.

Whitney quickly steps in between them. “Ace, I think maybe you should leave.”

“I’m not leaving unless Annie comes with me.”

“Aaace!” Chelsea whines. She puts her hand on his back.

He shrugs it off and says, “Get away from me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Annie says. Her jaw is set, but her eyes are filling with tears.

Jake stands up. He’s taller than Ace, but not as broad.

“She’s not going with you. Do as Whitney asked. Leave, and take her with you,” he says with a sneer toward Chelsea. “We’re all just here to have some fun.”

The way Jake says fun makes it sound like he and Annie are hooking up and it sets Ace off. He starts to throw a punch at Jake, but Aiden and Riley are there in a flash. They have Ace’s arm pinned behind his back and are out the door in a few seconds.

Once the door slams shut behind them, Whitney says, “It’s not a party ’til someone gets in a fight. Enjoy the rest of the show.” Then she holds up a few Shark logo flasks and asks, “Anyone care to join me?”

Aiden grabs bottles of water for us and sits back down.

“You handled that well,” I tell him.

“I have something else I need to handle,” he says with a sly grin.

“What’s that?”

He picks up my purse. “Is this the bag you took to St. Croix?”

“Uh, yeah.”

He starts digging through it and pulls out the glow-in-the-dark moon. “I’m putting this back up. Where do you want it? My ceiling or yours?”

“Where do you want it?” I ask. The moon and my stupid wish are kinda the last things on my mind right now.

“Well, I wanted it on your ceiling, that’s why I put it there. But I don’t want it to mock you.” He’s trying to suppress a smirk.

“I don’t know,” I say. Part of me wants to see it on my ceiling every night and part of me wishes I never had to look at the moon again.

Aiden holds up a finger. “Wait. I have a better idea.”

“What?”

“I know the perfect place for it. I’ll show you later, okay?”

“Okay. Um, I’m not feeling great, Aiden. I think I’m going to head back to my room.”

He gets up, looking concerned, and says, “I’ll walk you.”

When I’m alone in my room, I grab my laptop and watch the movie trailer again and again.

Watching it makes me feel nauseous.

It’s way worse than I ever imagined. And I know without a doubt that I have to do something about Vincent.

And fast.

I text Garrett.

Me: I saw the extended trailer.

Garrett: Me too.

Me: Are you in Vancouver with my mom?

Garrett: Yes. And no one knows this, but we’ve moved up our timeline. We’re not waiting until Thursday. We’re leaving now.

Me: You’re going with them?

Garrett: Yes, I’m one of many who are.

Me: Thank you.

An old map.

12:30am

Dallas: Most everyone took Whitney up on her offer, got drunk, and went to bed. You up for a little adventure with Riley and me?

Me: Yes.

I throw on some warm clothes and ease quietly out the window.

Dallas and Riley are waiting for me at the clearing.

“It’s cold. Are you sure we want to do this?”

“There is one other place we could go,” Dallas says.

“Where?”

“You know how the chapel is always left open?”

“I have to draw the line at smoking in church.”

“God made weed, you know.”

“I know, but . . .”

“Cool your panties,” Riley says. “It’s not just the chapel that’s open. There’s also the social center in the basement, and we think there’s some kind of special room there.”

“Special room?”

“Cam sent me an old map, a key, and a list of rules.”

“What kind of rules?”

“About taking care of the place. Passing on the key to someone worthy.”

“Why didn’t he give it to Dawson?”

“Dawson may have had a wild summer, but he’s a good boy compared to the rest of us.”

“So, by worthy you mean someone not afraid to take risks?”

Dallas says, “It’s colder than a witches’ tit. Can we discuss this later?”

“Wanna run?” Riley asks, both of them taking off before I can reply.

At the chapel, we go in the front door, up the side aisle, through a skinny door, down a set of stairs, and through a dark hallway. Once we leave the stairs, Riley starts counting.

“Twenty-seven. Stop. This should be it.”

Dallas shines a flashlight in front of us. There’s nothing but a dead end. He points it toward the wall on our left. On this wall is what appears to be a memorial stone for a Mary Jane Stockton, who died on April 20, 1920. Dallas points the light toward the other side. Nothing but a blank wall.

“There’s a door back there,” I say, pointing back. “Maybe you counted wrong.”

“Hang on,” Riley says, pulling the note out of his back pocket. Dallas shines the flashlight on the note. “See this? I didn’t know what this was, but maybe it’s a clue.”

I move the paper closer to the light. “That’s a pencil engraving.” I look up at the circular carving above Mary Jane’s name and laugh. It’s a flower with leaves that look suspiciously like a marijuana plant. “Her name is Mary Jane and she died on four-twenty? This has to be the place.”

“So where does the key go?”

I push the flower to the left and find a keyhole. “Here it is!”

Riley puts the key in the lock. We push the big stone door inward, shut it, and then look for a light.

When Dallas finds one and flips it on, I can barely believe my eyes.

We’re standing in a huge stone room. The walls are painted in bright colors and there are names and dates written all over them in black marker. There are furry and vinyl beanbags of various shapes and colors littering the floor. Psychedelic posters cover the ceiling. There’s a bar running the length of one wall with shelves just waiting to be filled. In front of it is a bar top with stools lined up underneath.

“This place is giving me a hard-on,” Dallas says.

“Me too,” I reply in awe.

I go behind the bar and find four built-in mini fridges, each bearing their year of donation, and a place to chill and tap a keg.

“I think I’m in love with the class of 2004,” Riley laughs. “Holy shit, this place is sweet.”

“And warm.”

“Look over here,” Dallas says, pointing at a foosball table from the class of 1999.

I start reading the walls. “1974 is the oldest I can find. What about you guys?”

“I’ve got a 1972!” Riley yells. “In fact, I think these are the people who started it.”

Dallas and I run over and read the inscription.

All who pass through Stockton’s door,

Take an oath of silence swore.

In this place of legend and lore,

Party on, friends, evermore.

Samuel Torpe

Oscar Cullen

Karolyn Thorton

Olivia Newell

Class of 1972

Dallas holds up a joint. “I think we need to toast our forefathers.”

We each plop down on a beanbag.

“How is this place so clean?” I wonder aloud. “Shouldn’t it be dusty if no one has used it this year?”

“There’s probably some secret alumni fund that keeps it clean.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I agree, taking a hit.

“We need to get the keg down here and fill those bar shelves,” Riley says.

“How are we supposed to do that?” I ask.

“We’ll figure out a way. More importantly, who will we invite?”

“It’d have to be people we trust not to tell, right?” Dallas asks.

He passes me the joint again and I say, “Could we bring people here without letting them know where it is?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Blindfold them? That would keep the location safe. And without the key, no one else can get in anyway.”

Riley ponders that for a second but then gets distracted by a poster of a hot girl above his head. “This place is sweet.”